Take Me Or Leave Me
by Facing My Failure
Summary: What happens when Joanne tells Maureen she thinks she's straight? COMPLETED!
1. Chapter 1

Take Me Or Leave Me

Summary: What happens when Joanne thinks she's straight?

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Rent, which BLOWS.

"What do you mean, 'you think you're straight'?" Maureen's unruly, curly hair quivered with anger. "I went lesbian for you! I left Mark for you! I swore of men for a year and a half, because _you_ wanted me to! And now you're telling me 'I think I'm straight'?" Maureen was pacing the apartment, arms flailing. Her eyes were blazing with fury. Joanne sat meekly at the table, listening to Maureen rant, trying to keep cool, trying to force down the rage that was bubbling up inside of her.

"Joanne, do you even know what changes I made for you? I haven't slept with another woman for _months_ to keep you happy! I-" something inside Joanne snapped.

"Maureen, that's called being faithful! Its usually what couples do! Maureen, this may come as a shock, but its usually expected of people when they are in a relationship! Do you ever see Roger going off with another girl because he wants a break from Mimi? Did Angel ever run off with some gigolo for a week because she was bored with Collins? No! You are incapable of being in a normal relationship, Maureen. Simply incapable! And don't tell me about changes. I haven't taken you to see any of my friends, because you are an _embarrassment_! I ignored your little "flings", because I was in love!" Maureen opened her mouth to protest, but Joanne stopped her. "I listened to and believed all your 'I love you, pookie!' and 'you're my only one, honeybear! _You_ are the reason I'm going straight, Maureen. You! When I was doing the whole hetero- thing, NONE of the men I dated were like this. None. I will not play this game anymore. I'm done." Joanne sat back down. _When did I stand up,_ she thought.

"Pookie, I-" Maureen stared at Joanne with a helpless look in her eyes. "I'm sorry!"

"Me too, Mo. But I can't do this anymore," Joanne said gently. She saw Maureen's eyes filling with tears. She couldn't remember the last time Maureen cried when she wasn't on stage as part of a "performance". The sight shocked and slightly disturbed Joanne. She turned and went out the door to the sounds of Maureen's stifled sobs.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapitre Deux

Ha ha. I like to pretend I'm French. Anyway, I had so much fun with the first chapter, I had to continue. Please R&R! If you do, I will love you forever! Well, for 15 seconds anyway. Oh, and I don't own RENT, which still blows.

Joanne made it outside the apartment complex before she broke down. She sank down on the steps leading up to the door, sobbing uncontrollably. The stoic doorman look down his nose with mild disgust.

_That was harder than telling it to my reflection,_ Joanne thought bitterly. She needed someone to talk to. Some of her pre-Maureen friends were shrinks, but they wouldn't get it. Besides, they never fully accepted her decision to become a lesbian. _Where is Angel when you need her?_ Joanne sighed. _That's it!_ She sat up and looked for the nearest payphone. She dug in her pockets for quarters and sniffed as she dialed a number.

"Hello?" said a warm, deep voice. She sighed in relief.

"Thank goodness you're home! Collins, I– I-" her voice cracked.

"Maureen, are you okay?"

"No, Collins, its Joanne."

"_Joanne?_ What happened? Is it Maureen?"

"No, its me! I've ruined everything! I-I-" she cut off and sighed. "Collins, can I come over and talk to you?"

"Yeah, of course. Come right over. You know where my place is?"

"I do. I'll be there in about 10 minutes. _Thank you!_"

"I'll see you soon. Anytime, Jo." She set down the receiver, leaned against the booth, and just breathed.

She sat on the subway, oblivious to the commuters around her. Silent tears rolled down her tear-stained cheeks. She just sat and thought.

_Why Collins? He's certainly no Angel! _

_Well, you couldn't really talk to Mark, or Roger or something. They're Maureen's friends. They're going to hate me._

_Who knows? Maybe they'll think Maureen's just acting up again?_

_Oh, shut up. You're so stupid sometimes._

Before she knew it, a muffled, unclear voice called out her stop. Joanne stood and exited the train, her feet numbly carrying her to Collins' apartment. When she knocked on the door, his welcoming, smiling face greeted Joanne. Something in his smile cracked her. A smile seemed so inappropriate in a time like this! She was in agony, and he was _smiling!_ She started to cry again, and melted into Collins' arms. While he knew she was a lesbian, and he was definitely gay, it was still uncomfortable. He uncertainly patted her head and steered her to his living room. He sat her on the couch.

"I'm going to get you some coffee, okay?" Joanne nodded and swallowed the rest of her tears. She studied the rest of the apartment. Evidence of Angel was all over the place. Photos of her, her and Collins, and Joanne thought she saw Angel's drums. She missed her. _Everyone_ missed her. She would know what to say in a time like this. She'd probably call Maureen a bitchy, unfaithful jerk to Joanne, and tell Maureen that she was an uptight, anal geek. But nobody would be mad at her, because Angel didn't mean a word of it. Anything Angel ever said was helpful. _You took her too soon, God._ She was always reminding Him that He took Angel too soon. He was probably sick of hearing her gripe.

"Here you go, Jo." She jumped and saw Collins holding out a mug.

"Thanks." He went over to a chair, and looked at her, waiting for her to tell him what was wrong. He fidgeted a little, and when she didn't say anything, he decided to get to the point.

"So, uh, what happened?" Joanne took a deep breath and began.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Okay, first off, I want to say THANK YOU! To L. M. Ward, and PaLM Tree 101 for reviewing. I love you guys! Yay!

Maureen watched Joanne walk out the door. She collapsed to the ground and cried. Her shoulders shook with the sobs. After a few minutes, the sadness was immediately replaced by a fury that came as suddenly as the sorrow. One that was so white-hot, she couldn't contain it. She got to her feet and tore the bedding from her mattress and flung it across the room. It hit a framed picture which shattered on the floor. She started throwing whatever she could get her hands on. It seemed nothing could quench the flaming rage rising in her.

_How could she? I'm Maureen Johnson! I don't get dumped, I dump! People would kill to be her! Where does she get the guts to suddenly go straight?_ She threw on her jacket and walked to Mark's. She didn't bother knocking, but busted in, interrupting Mimi and Roger making out.

"Hey!" they both shouted.

"Where's Mark?" she demanded without apology.

"Maureen, take a Midol or something."

"Shut up, Roger. Where is he?"

I think he's in the darkroom," Mimi replied. Without thanking her, Maureen stalked to the closet Mark converted to his darkroom when he decided to play photographer. She threw open the door.

"I'M WORKING!" Mark slammed the door in her face, then swore loudly. "Maureen! You ruined some of my best work!"

"Get over yourself, Marky. I need to talk to you."

"Get over _myself_? I could have got paid for some of that!" Maureen rolled her eyes and crashed on their excuse for a couch.

"Seriously, Mark, I think this might be the one for me and Joanne."

"I thought you guys had sex over a year ago," interjected Roger, who was fooling around on his guitar since Maureen had sufficiently ruined his and Mimi's moment.

"And _I _thought I told _you_ to shut up, you Hendrix-wannabe!" Roger scowled and muttered something about Hendrix not being that great.

"I _mean_, I think this might be THE FIGHT. The one that breaks us up."

"Oh, please. THE FIGHT has happened once a week for months!" Mimi snorted. Maureen shot a poisonous look at her. Mimi stared at the floor.

"You don't understand, Joanne said she thinks she might be _straight_!" All three of the spectators' eyes widened.

"But she's full-on lezzie! She's not bi, like you," Mark said.

"I know!" she said as she threw her hands up and started pacing the floor. "So, I start telling her about all the changes I made for her, and she goes off on some crap about couples being faithful, or something like that."

"Well, they usually are, Sherlock," Roger said, still bitter about the Jimi Hendrix comment. Maureen looked at him confused.

"Roger's right. I mean, you don't see him running off with some chick for a couple of days because he's bored with me, do you?" Mimi said.

"She said that too!"

"You're pretty clueless, Mo," Mark said. Maureen rolled her eyes and started off toward the door.

"I come for sympathy, and this is what I get? Fine. I won't trespass on your 'hospitality' anymore."

"What a drama queen," she heard before she slammed the door and stomped down the stairs.


	4. Chapter 4

Capitulo Tres

"…and so I'm here," Joanne finished. Collins sat staring at her, and sighed.

"Do you really think you're straight, r did you say it as an excuse to get out?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I do love Maureen. I don't know what's wrong with me! Its like, I love her, but not the things she does. What do you think I should do?" she asked sadly.

"I honestly don't know. Why don't you talk to Mark?"

"Mark? Why?"

"Well, basically he was in the same boat you are 2 years ago."

"All right," she said skeptically as she stood. "We'll see what happens. Thanks, Collins."

"No problem. My door's always open." Joanne smiled and nodded at him, and set off on her way.

When she reached the loft, she heard something _very_ unexpected. It was muffled, sounding like a recording.

"Charlie Guiteau, never said never or heard the word no…" she tentatively knocked on the door.

"COME IN!" Mimi shouted. Joanne opened the door and walked in to see Roger saying something to Mimi, who obviously wasn't listening, but was reading something and humming along with the recording.

"…Mimi, _show tunes_?" She ignored him and waved at Joanne, still reading.

"Mimi, you're not listening to _Assassins_ are you?"

"Yes," Roger moaned. "When Maureen left, Mimi said she was bored, and was going to do some stuff for school. She came back an hour later with a CD player, this _crap_," he said vehemently, "and a _library card_. A LIBRARY CARD, I ask you. I liked her better before she went to school," he muttered.

"Shut up, Roger," Mimi said, forgetting to ignore him. "I was in history, and we were talking about some dude named John Wilkes Booth, and I didn't have a clue who he was."

"That was like, a week ago," Mark called from his closet.

"Yeah, it's been bugging me. So I went to the library," she said proudly.

"Um, okay," Joanne said.

"Are you here to accuse me of being a Jimi Hendrix wannabe too, in all of your PMS glory?" Roger asked her.

"Would you let that go?" Mark said.

"No!" Roger was stubborn.

"No, I want to talk to Mark, actually." Roger snorted.

"You too?"

"Maureen was here?" Mark stepped out of the make-shift darkroom.

"Yeah, and took some of my best work with her."

"Sorry about that. I've just been to Collins'. What did Maureen say?"

"Something about this being THE FIGHT and you going straight," Mimi replied.

"Yeah, what's with that?" Mark inquired, falling on the couch, crushing Mimi's feet.

"I don't know. Collins wonders if I just said that to get out. But I think I might be. He also said I should talk to you, Mark."

"Why?" he and Roger asked in unison.

"Because ever since I walked out I've been feeling like a maggot crushed under one of her big old shoes, and ground into the dirt."

"That bad, huh? Well, Meems, I have a feeling this is going to get sappy. Wanna go to the Life Café?" Roger asked.

"Sure," she said, switching off the CD. _Get rid of it!_ Roger mouthed to Mark, pointing to the disk as he walked out the door.

"So, the mighty Maureen has been dumped. I never thought I'd live to see the day," Mark mused.

"I know. I'd been on edge for a while, knowing it would happen sooner or later."

"I hate to say I told you so."

"Please don't, Mark. I feel bad enough!" Fresh tears stung her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away so Mark wouldn't see, but he did. He bit his lower lip, unsure of what to do.

"I'm sorry, Jo. Uh, why don't you sit down?" she nodded and sat next to him on the couch, tears falling on her dry-clean only suit.

"I'm sorry you have to see me like this. Its just terrible," she sniffed. "I'm supposed to be the strong one while Maureen openly shows her emotions. I'm supposed to be the balancing factor."

"Its ok. This isn't fun, I know." He reached over and hugged her. Joanne stayed in his arms, feeling safe. While she had that safe feeling burning in her chest, another one pulsed through her. A warm, tingly feeling raced up and down. She felt like she never wanted to leave the comfort and safety of his arms. She smiled and sighed in contentment.

"Were you serious about going straight?" Mark asked; half playfully, half serious. Little did Joanne know the warm feeling was running through Mark too. Suddenly, without warning, the only thing he wanted was Joanne's happiness. He felt like he would run to China and back. Joanne smiled.

"We'll see," she murmured, settling deeper against Mark. Suddenly the door swung open.

"Marky, I think I grew a conscience, and I wanted to say sorry for --- WHAT IS THIS?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A/N: Okay, thank you all for your reviews! L.M. Ward, you are officially my favorite person. I know, I know, the Joanne/Mark thing was TOTALLY predictable, but hey, it was either Jo/Mark, or Jo/Collins. And that wasn't happening. So, this is what we have. Sorry for the shortness (is shortness even a word?), but I try.

Maureen stood in the open doorway, gaping at Mark and Joanne on the couch. Joanne launched herself across the room, but the damage had been done.

"So. _This_ is why you go straight. To take the man _I _dumped so I could go lezzie for you."

"Mo, its not like that," Mark like; more to himself than Maureen. He glanced at Joanne who was furiously blushing. A new sadness, one less than the pain she had felt all day, but a definitely recognizable one set in. _So. Mark isn't interested._

"Don't you _Mo_ me, camera boy! Joanne, you are fooling around with my ex!"

"First off, we were not fooling around, we were having a conversation. Second, for once in your life, you're right! Mark is your _ex_. He is not your property! He can 'fool around' with whomever he pleases!"

"Yeah!" he said lamely. A small smile crept across Joanne's face at the stupidity of Mark's exclamation.

"And, I'm… your ex too!... I'm not…" giggles took hold of her. She glanced at Mark who was "church laughing". She could see his shoulders shaking, his face twisted into a grimace that was unsuccessfully trying to conceal his grin. "I'm not your girlfriend!... so I can… fool around… too!" Laughter consumed them both. Maureen was not amused.

"Joanne, I'd like to have an _adult_ conversation with Mark. So if you could leave," she said coldly, freezing Joanne's amusement. She glared at Maureen, and walked calmly to the door, head held high, stealing a glance at Mark. When the door shut, Maureen kicked off her shoes and threw them and her purse in a corner, causing a shower of dry wall to crumble on them.

"Hey! You're going to make this dump fall down!"

"You're too whiny Mark. And you made me forget what I was going to tell you. Oh, yeah. Sorry about those pictures. So, can I talk to you?"

"I guess."

"You're not going to date Joanne, are you?"

"Uh… well… I don't… um…" Maureen rolled her eyes.

"Forget it. I feel just short of a hangover. This crying business sucks. Why did she leave me mark? I'm always the one that does the leaving! And why do I care so much? That's what really bothers me, is that I care!"

"She left because she was afraid you were going to, and couldn't handle the rejection."

"So now I have to! But why do I care so much?"

"Maybe you're genuinely in love with her?" Maureen contemplated that for a moment.

"I think you're right. No offense Mark, but I think she's the only one I was ever truly in love with. Don't get me wrong, you were great, but you have no spine."

"Gee, thanks," he growled.

"That's got to be it. I really am in love with her, because she wouldn't let me walk all over her! It feels so refreshing," she smiled.

"You know what else is refreshing? Not being walked on!" he said angrily.

"I've got to get her back," she declared with a hug. "Thanks, Marky. You're so smart sometimes. Were you saying something earlier, by the way?" Mark answered with a scowl. Not noticing, Maureen bounced out the door on her merry way to her apartment. As she was about to open the door, she crashed into Joanne, spilling the contents of a cardboard box onto the floor.

"Oh! Pookie, I'm sorry. Here, let me help you." Joanne sighed and got to her knees. _Now she decides to get helpful_. "What is all this stuff anyway?"

" 'All this' is my stuff." The women got to their feet.

"Oh, but you don't have to leave!" Maureen said gleefully, taking the box and setting it on their kitchen table.

"What, are _you _going to leave?"

"No, stupid, I've decided I'm really actually in love with you!" Joanne rolled her eyes.

"_Now_ you've decided? When _I've _decided I'm done?" Maureen wasn't getting it.

"Well, I don't know if I just barely fell for you or what, but you're the only one that matters, honeybear."

"I see. And all those little 'breaks' were just for fun?"

"Pretty much. I mean, I needed someone who was wild, like me. You were too _organized._" She spat the word like it was a disease threatening to infest her. Joanne grabbed her box.

"Well, you can find some wild girl, or guy, or whatever you're into these days, _permanently_. After all, I'm much too much of a geek for the Mighty Maureen. I'll be back for my furniture."

Maureen stood in the empty kitchen. _I've been walked out on twice in one day! What is her problem, anyway? I totally told her she was the only one, and how does she thank me? By walking out!_ She collapsed weakly onto a chair. _I swear, I should go back to guys permanently! Experiencing two people's PMS in the same house blows._


	6. Chapter 6

Chapiter 6

(yes, I am aware I spelled it wrong. It sounds funny. Sound it out.)

a/n: Sorry for the break, and I'm sorry that its so short. Its been so long because I had every intention of making it a long chapter! But I kept dragging it out, and I felt bad about the not updating. Plus, heh, I am stuck. Like, dialog wise. Trust me, I know exactly what's going to happen, I just don't know HOW, dangit! Anyway, you don't care. So, on with the show!

_What is wrong with you? You could have her back this very minute!_

_Yes, but for how much longer?_ Joanne pounded the wall with her fist, hating the fact that the logical part of her was always right. She blinked back tears, forcing herself not to cry.

_I need to get drunk, _she groaned.

"You work too hard," Roger said lazily to Mark, who was hanging out the loft window, camera pointed down at the pedestrians on the sidewalks below.

"What else is there to do?" he asked reasonably. Roger gave an unhelpful shrug. Suddenly the phone rang. The bohemians looked at each other and chanted boredly, "screen" and let it ring. Finally the answering machine picked up.

"Speak!" A tearful Maureen spoke.

"It didn't work! I told her everything we talked about and she still walked out! With her stuff! I don't know what to do anymore, and I need someone to talk to before I get hysterical---" ("too late," smirked Roger)"--- so I'm going to come over. Bye." Mark groaned.

"You want to go out? Like, Cat Scratch or something?"

"You know how I get when I watch Mimi work," Roger said with a glare.

"Well, you pick somewhere! I've just gotta get out of here before she does!" Roger laughed at Mark's misfortune.

"Okay, okay. We'll get Collins, a little A-N-G-E-L, and go to a bar. We haven't gotten slobbering drunk in a long time."

"I can't remember the last time I've gotten drunk on something decent."

"I can't remember the last time you've gotten drunk at all!" Roger teased.

"Shut up," Mark said as he pulled on a jacked and reached for his scarf.

Collins looked up from a magazine at the sound of impatient knocking. He looked through his peephole and saw Roger with his eye pressed to his end of it. Collins chuckled and opened the door to a grinning Roger, and a sullen Mark, hands stuffed in his pockets, leaning against the wall.

"Hey, guys. To what to I owe this pleasure?"

"Maureen and Joanne broke up." Mark looked up at the sound of Joanne's name, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Collins.

"Yeah, Jo came over here, heaven only knows why, sobbing about going straight." Mark stood a little straighter.

"We got a visit from both of them. Maureen wrecked our wall and some of Mark's photos---"

"And Roger's pride," Mark chimed in.

"You be quiet," Roger said sullenly.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "She called him a Jimi Hendrix wannabe and he's still all pissed off about it." Collins laughed out loud.

"There's Maureen for you," he said, leaning on the doorframe.

"_Anyway_" Roger glared, "Joanne came over and me and Meems beat it because they were _talking about their feelings_" he sneered. "But we passed Maureen coming from the loft on our way back with a stupid smiley look on her face, and not an hour later, probably 15 minutes after Mimi went to work, she calls us, while Mark is hanging out the window looking like a sniper, filming. She was bawling, and saying something about it not working. So we blew her off, and we want to go out because Marky here needs to get himself plastered," Roger finished with a brotherly slap on the back.

"And you want me to play the responsible one so he doesn't have to?" Collins asked with amusement.

"Yep."

"Sounds good to me," he said as he reached for his coat.

"Oh, and we're running low on…" Roger rubbed his thumb and forefinger together to make his point.

"All right, all right," Collins laughed. "Let's go."

Okay! So… yeah. I don't like to beg for reviews, and I really don't like to threaten to stop writing, because that's gay. So, I won't stop writing, but I'd like to know my efforts aren't in vain. Thanks all who have stayed with me so far!

Another thought. My summary is crap. If anybody can help me out, I'd love you for… 30 minutes! Rock on!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Siete!

A/n. Ha. You thought you'd get a normal title! Anyway, I'm fully aware that this chapter is obscenely short. BUT it's because I like the ending, and it didn't seem right to add on. So, get pissed at me for having short chapters, but that's how I operate. PLEASE DON'T STOP READING! And… reviews are still desperately wanted! I mean, it makes me want to go faster, wink wink Okay. Enough propaganda!

Joanne laughed drunkenly. "Oh, man! I am going to be so _hammered_! I think--- I think--- I think I should stop," she said, reaching for another drink, but collapsing onto the counter laughing.

"_Joanne_?"

"Collins! Hey, man! What're you doing here?" she asked, her words slurred.

"Uh, Jo, how many drinks have you had?"

"Um… 3? 4?" she replied, her face contorted into a look of concentration.

"You always could get drunk off almost nothing." Joanne laughed and swiped at the philosopher.

"_Anyway_," she continued, swaying as she stood. "_What_ are you _doing_ here?"

"Playing the responsible one for Mark and Roger."

"Mark?" Her glazed-over eyes focused a little.

"Yeah," he replied suspiciously. "Over there," he pointed.

"Maybe I'll--- I'll--- talk to him," she said, making her way to the table, but fell. Unfazed, she gasped for air between laughs. "Mee-ster Tom Collins! I think I need help." He rolled his eyes and grasped her forearm.

"Look who I found," he said to the two men. Mark's eyes widened.

"Joanne! What are you doing here?"

"Drowning Maureen in booze! Helloooooooo? I'm sick of that cow, so I'm trying to forget her!"

"Y'know, Jo, you're just going to remember _everything_ you're trying to forget in the morning with a killer hangover to boot," Roger said taking a swig from his drink. Joanne made a sound like, "pfft!" and sat down.

"Here, Marky, have some!" she said, pushing a drink on Mark, sloshing it over onto his jacket. _This must be why she never gets drunk in front of us_, he thought dabbing at the spill. "Come on!" she insisted, so Mark swallowed some. The bitter liquid burned all the way down his throat. _And this is why I never get drunk._

"So, why are you here, besides trying to forget Mo?" Collins asked. Joanne made a throaty noise and took a breath.

"Well…. Maureen says to me, she sorry, and _I'm _the only one she loves! Blah blah blah! How many times have I heard that?" She paused to laugh. "_Anyways…_ I wasn't taking _that_ bullet again, so I grabbed my crap and left! So _now_ I don't have a--- a--- a house!" she explained giggling.

"What were you going to do? Like, where were you planning to go?" Mark asked, trying to sound casual. Joanne sighed.

"I dunno. I rented a car to put my crap in."

"Well, maybe you could stay at the loft while you figure things out?" he asked, in a miserably failed attempt to be nonchalant. Roger rolled his eyes and ordered another drink.

"Mark, really? You would do that for me? See? This is why I think I'm in love with you! Which _really_ complicates things, because I'm _supposed_ to be a lesbian!" Mark's eyes widened further.

"Calm down, Mark, you look like a bug."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The light of the rising sun crept through the open window onto Joanne's sleeping face. She was sleeping on the couch in the loft, her head leaning against the rhythmic rising and falling of Mark's chest. Her eyelids fluttered open, then closed tightly against the brightness. She groaned and stretched. _My head!_

"Mmm. G'morning," Mark murmured. She smiled. Then, the realization that this was _not_ Maureen and this was _not_ her apartment hit her like a slap in the face. She threw herself off the couch, and shrieked. Mark was yelling at her, trying to calm her down, but she kept screaming.

"_Would you shut up? I have the worst hangover!_" Roger bellowed from his room.

"_Mark!_ What am I doing here?"

"Well, you were _really_ drunk---"

"I think I've figured that out from the headache I have now!" she snapped.

"Yeah, well," he said sheepishly. He could feel a blush creeping up his neck. "Um, anyway, you said you took your stuff from your apartment, and didn't have a place to stay, so I offered for you to stay here." Joanne rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. This headache was killer. She slid down the wall and put her head between her knees. She thought for a moment, and her head shot up.

"Mark, we didn't…" His blush deepened. "_Mark._" Her tone was threatening.

"Well…"

"_Mark!_ Did we or didn't we?"

"No. But you were really hinting on it."

"Hinting? She was all over you!" Collins called from the kitchen.

"Oh, God," Joanne moaned.

"Remember you were _really_ drunk," Mark told her, trying to make it sound better than it was.

"What are you doing here?" she shot at Collins.

"Neither you nor Roger could stand up straight on your own, so I took Roger, and Mark too you."

"What I wouldn't give for a tranquilizer right now," she groaned. The front door opened and in came Mimi.

"TGIS," she said tiredly.

"You mean, TGIF," Joanne corrected her. Even with the worst hangover she ever knew, she had to have things right.

"No I don't. Its Saturday."

"You'll want to go somewhere else today. Roger got drunk last night," Mark told her.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Nope." Roger's bedroom door slammed open, making Joanne's head feel like it had been split in two. He shuffled to the kitchen to make some coffee, but realized Joanne's presence.

"What are you doing here?" he shouted. Roger was an angry drunk, and even angrier the next morning.

"She's staying with us for a while, remember?" Mark told him.

"Do you really expect me to remember anything that went on last night?" he bellowed. Apparently, he was angry and deaf. He got his coffee and went back to his room.

"I'll go talk to him," Mimi sighed. "Welcome to bohemia, Jo." She took a look at her surroundings and shook her head.

"One good thing coming from my stay is you'll have some decent furniture," she snorted. "I swear, I've got a hole in my butt from a spring in your 'couch'" she said, adding air quotes. Collins laughed.

"Well, that's what we get for not having jobs, I guess," Mark shrugged. Joanne made an annoyed sound through her nose. She opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the ringing phone.

"Speak!"

"Mark, its your mother. You can't avoid me forever, you know! How sad is this? A woman's only son won't talk to the very person who gave him life! Feh! I'll call you next Saturday. Love Mom!"

"You know, you wouldn't get these constant and obnoxious phone calls if you'd talk to the woman," Collins said, chewing on Cap'n Cruch. Mark rolled his eyes.

"Oh, speaking of parents, I ought to call mine," Joanne said. Mark laughed at her.

"How old are you? 10?" he said holding out the receiver toward her. Joanne dialed the number and waited, listening to the monotonous ring tome.

"Hello?"

"Hi, daddy.  
"_Kitten!_ How _are_ you?"

"I'm fine. Uh, actually, me and Maureen broke up."

"Honey! Joanne and Maureen broke up!"

"Give me that phone! Joanne, really? You broke up? Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." Joanne could hear the glee in her mother's voice. "Are you keeping the apartment?"

"No, I'm staying with Mark for a while until---"

"_Mark_? Dear, Joanne's living with a boy named Mark!" Joanne could imagine her mother jumping up and down with joy. She had never liked that Joanne had turned out a lesbian.

"Kitten! Really? What's this Mark like?"

"To tell you the truth, he's sort of nerdy---"

"They're talking about you," Collins nudged him.

"Oh, but he's nice, isn't he?"

"Dad, he's not my boyfriend!" Her father sounded disbelieving.

"Hm. Well, keep us posted. We have to go, Mummy's got another hearing coming up. We love you dear."

"Love you too, Dad. Bye." She set the receiver down and stood up. "Well, I think I'll drop in on _dear Maureen_ for my furniture. If you would please clear the living room? Thank you. I'll be back soon."

"Okay," Mark said, and started to pull the couch to the window.

"You are such a doorman," Collins shook his head and set to helping him.

The bedroom door opened and out stumbled Roger, hair and clothes disheveled, eyes bright, and a satisfied look on his face. Mimi followed after, straightening her top, and fixing her mussed hair, seemingly pleased with herself. She flopped onto Roger's lap.

"Why is all the furniture weird?"

"Joanne said she'd bring new stuff, and to clear the room so she could bring hers," Mark replied, fiddling with his camera. Roger gave a disgusted sound with his throat and said:

"You are _such_ a _pushover_! You're taking orders from a chick!" Mimi glared at him and he looked away.

"Hm! That's what I told him." Collins added.

"But I'm not!" Mark protested.

"Yeah, you are Marky, but that's why we love you," Mimi said, patting his hand in a motherly sort of way. Roger poked her and she stood up so he could get some painkillers.

"Where's all the Tylenol?" mark shrugged, and went back to the camera. "So. When are you and Joanne gonna hook up?" Roger asked, leaning against the pantry.

"Roger!" Mark's head shot up, shocked.

"Well, you two are totally into each other!"

"But, she's a lesbian!"

"Well then, maybe she's not into you, but you're sure into her!"

"I'm _not_!"

"_Please!_ God, Mark, you've had the hots for her since you met her at the lot!" Mark was shocked. Was he really that transparent?

"But--- I--- we--- I mean---" Mark stuttered.

"You're afraid she'll end up like Maureen and take her back, aren't you?" Mimi asked softly. Mark bit his lower lip.

"Well… yeah."

"And that's totally understandable, but you've got to take a chance! You'll never know unless you find out!" _Why did Maureen's equipment break down?_ Mark sighed, then chuckled.

"I wonder how she and Maureen are getting on." Roger laughed, not noticing Mimi's sneeze in the corner.

a/n: Just to let you know, Maureen is not a major factor in this story. Yeah.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

"Its number 207," Joanne said to the movers. The unkempt man with the 5 o' clock shadow at 11 in the morning grunted and motioned to some of the men working with him who got up and moved up the stairs. Joanne leaned against the truck and sighed, emotionally preparing herself. _Okay. No crying. You've already got a hangover, you don't need this too._ Sighing again, she started up the stairs, to see the scruffy-looking movers waiting at the front door.

"Okay, this is not a hard concept." She knocked on the door. "You knock, wait for the door to open and---"

"Pookie!" Joanne's breath was knocked out of her as she was being crushed by Maureen. She stood stiffly for a minute before pushing her away.

"Hello, Maureen," she said icily.

"Oh, _honeybear_! I knew you'd be back! I missed you so much! Did you miss me? I didn't get a second of sleep last night! Where were you? I was so worried!"

"I'm staying at the loft, actually---" she was cut off by a hair-raising shriek by Maureen who clapped her hands to her ears and continued her cries.

"WHAT ARE YOU SAYING TO ME? OH, MY _GOD!_ YOU SLEPT WITH MARK, DIDN'T YOU? _DIDN'T YOU?_" she started pacing the room in a rant, alternately screaming and yelling things like, "I _hope_ you at least used protection! What if you got _pregnant_?" She was pulled out of her rage by a forceful "_Maureen!_" from Joanne.

"We did _not_ have sex! I was _really_ drunk, and Mark brought me home because I had no place to stay. Calm down."

"Really?"

"Really." Maureen sighed in relief.

"Good. Where are your things? I'll help you unpack."

"Actually, we're just here to pick up things like the couch and things like that," Joanne said, gesturing to the movers.

"Oh. Um, I'll just stay out of the way then." She made her way to a chair and sat limply, silent tears falling. Joanne looked away, so as to hold her composure. She stood by the doorframe, detaching herself from the scene. _This must be what Mark sees_.

"Lady! We're ready to go," interrupted the disgruntled mover.

"Oh! Sorry," she said, taking a look over her shoulder, at Maureen's shaking shoulders. Tears spilled over that she hadn't felt filling her eyes. She wiped at them and focused on the ground.

"Wait!" came a faint voice. Joanne looked over her shoulder to see Maureen running after then, waving something. "Here," she said, out of breath as she handed something small and cold to Joanne. "I know you hated it, but its something to remember with," she gulped as she turned back to her home. Joanne looked down at the thing Maureen gave her. The cowbell. She forced back sobs so as not to embarrass herself in front of the greasy men with her things. She clutched the cowbell to her chest.

They arrived at the loft, and she led them to where the bohemians lived. They brought the furniture and placed it where she silently pointed and left.

"Jo, this stuff is great! Thanks so much! You don't know how--- what's wrong?" Mark asked, seeing her tear-stained face. She answered with a sob, and collapsed on him, crying hysterically, gasping for air every so often, letting the cowbell fall. Mark rubbed her back, running his fingers through her hair, whispering words of comfort. Mimi crept behind them and picked up the discarded cowbell with a small cough.

"Shh. Its okay, Jo. It'll be okay." She tore herself form him to the wall.

"_No!_ I'll never love anyone like that again! It'll never get better! Nobody can replace her!" She slid to the ground, crouching, her head buried in her hands. She felt a gentle hand on her quivering shoulder.

"You're right. Nobody can fill her place. You'll never have another relationship like that. You'll never feel that love again. But somebody can help fill the gaping hole I know is there. Somebody can be part of a new relationship. No, it won't be the same, but it'll be something great. Somebody can make you forget all the pain you're feeling right now. And…" he took a deep breath. "And if you'd let me, I'd like to be that somebody." Joanne looked up at Mark, surprised. She saw him looking away, his face a deep scarlet. She gave him a watery smile, and took his hand.

a/n: AWWW!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Diez

"Its morning," Mark said sleepily with his eyes closed. Joanne curled deeper into the crook of his arm and buried her face in his chest.

"So?"

"Morning usually means to get up."

"I don't want to!" she playfully whined. Mark laughed and pulled her tightly to him. They stayed like that, melted into each other, one person, one mind, one pulse. It was the most comfortable place Joanne had ever been. She thought about the past few weeks. She remembered a lot of things, like the day Maureen saw them together for the first time. It was Marks's birthday, and Roger had uncharacteristically planned a party for him.

" So, who's all coming?" Joanne asked.

"Me, Mimi, you, Collins, and Maureen." Her stomach did a back flip.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Oh, yeah. She's always good for a laugh," Roger replied, not worried in the least. Joanne's mind, however, was in tumults all afternoon until that night. It was 7:15, the thing had started at 7. _Maybe she won't come_, she thought, and began to relax. She took Mark's hand and rested her head on his shoulder. Suddenly the door opened, and in walked Maureen. Joanne and Mark stood, her hand tightly clutching his.

"Happy birthday, Marky! Here's a little ---" her eyes found the entwined fingers. "something." She took a deep breath and smiled. Not how Joanne had pictured her reaction at all! She let out her breath slowly, not realizing she had been holding it. She and Mark sat down. Maureen seemed to accept how things turned out, but seemed faded, somehow, for the rest of the night.

Joanne was pulled out of her memory by a light kiss on the top of her head. She loved his kisses, she lived off them. She could remember their first kiss, vividly.

It was one of those fall afternoons, where the sun was bright, but the air was chilly. Joanne had been living with them for about a month. She was reclining on the couch, flipping through an old photo album.

"How many pictures of Maureen do you have in here?"

"Well, she was my girlfriend."

"Mine too," she laughed. "Oh, and here there's like, nothing. I mean, here's a picture of you and Maureen and then, bang! Roger and Mimi. Because wasn't it a month or so after you two broke up that Roger and Mimi met?"

"Yeah. I was depressed."

"But I would have thought you would have done something black and white or something."

"Nope. Actually, I almost broke the camera. I was mad and hurt. You know."

"Yeah, okay. And I see there aren't any of me here. Oh, wait, here's one. A group photo." Mark blushed.

"Well, I was jealous." Joanne nodded. "You know, I really should get some of you. You want to go to the park or something? The leaves would look good with your skin tone." She heaved herself off the couch and got her coat. The walked the streets to the park, hand in hand, smiling up at each other on occasion. When they arrived, Mark's camera snapped almost non-stop for an hour until Joanne made him quit.

"Mark, stop! I'm cold!"

"Come on! Just a few more!"

"No. I'm done," she said, falling into a pile of leaves.

"Oh, fine." Mark smiled and dropped down next to her. "You're beautiful, you know that?" Joanne blushed and shook her head. "You are!" He put a hand to her cheek and kissed her. "Sorry."

"No," Joanne told him, and kissed him.

Back at the loft, they could hear Mimi's hacking cough. It made Joanne wince. Roger was worried about her, almost to the point of insanity. He wouldn't let her go back to school, or work, because he was sure that was where she got it. She wasn't on her deathbed or anything, but it was still worrisome.

"We should get up," Mark told her. Joanne sighed.

"I know." She stretched and got up. "Mimi's getting worse." He groaned.

"Don't remind me. Roger's going nuts."

"And he won't even let her go to the doctor or anything?"

"I think as long as he feels like he can handle it, there's nothing to worry about." They went into the kitchen to find Mimi huddled in a blanked with a steaming cup in her hands. Roger was in the corner behind her, watching and biting his fingernails in anxiety. Joanne went over to talk to him.

"She's getting worse, Roger."

"You think I don't see that?" he snapped.

"I know, but shouldn't we take her to a doctor or something? This can't be any good for her."

"Why don't you shut up and mind your own business? Don't you think I've thought about it? I've got it under control!" he shouted.

"No, Roger! You don't! Look! Benny's turned the heat on even though we can't pay it, and you have it all the way up, and look at her! She's frozen! That ought to tell you something!" Roger shouted and hit the wall with his fist.

"Please, Joanne. She'll be fine! She has to be." She could hear his voice cracking. She sighed and shook her head and wrapped her arms around Mark.

"He'll never listen will he?" Mark sadly shook his head. "Well, can't you talk to him? Get him out of the house long enough for us to take her?" she pleaded.

"I'll try, but I don't know what good it will do." Mark walked over and put a hand on Roger's shoulder.

"You're girlfriend's nuts," Roger said with a bitter laugh.

"Um, yeah. You know, Rog, you're not looking so good. I think you should go out. Like, take a walk or something."

"I can't, Mark! I have to stay with Mimi!"

"Its okay. Joanne can take care of her. Come on, we'll get you a coffee or something." Roger rubbed his tired face.

"I guess an hour won't hurt. Lets go." Mark gave Joanne a meaningful look and followed Roger out. She watched out the window until she saw they had turned the corner.

"Okay, Mimi, get up. We're going to the hospital." She took her hand, and quickly drew it away. It was blazing hot. "Mimi! You're not hot at all?"

"N-n-no. Its so cold!" she said, teeth chattering.

"But your hands and face are so hot!" Mimi just shook her head and brought her blanket closer to her. This worried Joanne more, so she hurried Mimi faster. They burst into the hospital.

"Excuse me? _Excuse me_?" she said urgently. A tired-looking nurse rolled up on a rolling chair.

"Can I help you?" she recited.

"Well, Mimi here has AIDS, you see, and…" she trailed off. The nurse looked at Mimi and sat up straighter, picked up the phone and punched a number. She talked into the receiver, saying something about HIV positive.

"Okay, hon, what's your name?"

"Mimi---" Joanne began.

"Davis." Cut off Mimi. Joanne looked at her, trying to hide her surprise.

"And you are?" asked the nurse.

"Um, well, Mimi is my, um,"

"Sister," croaked Mimi.

"Yeah, I'm her sister." Which brought a memory of that Christmas Eve at the Life Café. _Hey, mister. She's my sister!_ The nurse gave a look of disbelief and beckoned for Mimi to follow. Joanne started after, but was cut off by the nurse.

"No. we'll let you know when you can see her."

"I can't leave, she's my sister! I have to me with her!"

"I'm sorry, miss, but you need to _wait here_."

"But---"

"It's okay, Jo. I'll be fine. Go tell Roger I'm okay, please? He needs to know." Mimi grasped Joanne's hand and gave a weak smile, and started down the hall, Joanne staring after. For once in her life, things felt completely out of her control. It was _not_ a feeling she liked. Not at all.

a/n: Mimi's gotten thin. Mimi's running out of time…


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The musician and filmmaker walked the steps up to the loft, with a lighter feeling between them. Roger was talking more freely and was more open to what Mark had to say. He opened the door and walked in.

"Meems? Baby, I'm home. Mimi? _Mimi_? Mark! Mimi's gone!"

"I know. Joanne took her."

"J_oanne_? Mark where are they?" Roger's eyes were blazing in dangerous fury.

"She took her to the hospital," he replied calmly.

"_What_? Mark! I told you I could handle it, that she was fine! Why did you let her do that?" he shouted.

"No, Roger! Couldn't you see her? Couldn't you hear her cough? That is not fine! Joanne was right, and you know it! You're just scared!" Roger threw the coffee against the wall where it exploded in a splash of golden brown.

"Mark! Of course I'm scared!" He violently tore his coat off the couch he had put it on, and strode quickly out the door. Mark sighed and hurried after him.

Joanne was sitting in the waiting room, fingers tapping the armrest quickly and furiously in worry. She heard the door slam open and jumped in surprise. Her head whipped around to see a furious Roger str iding toward her. She stood, ready to meet her foe.

"_Where is she_?"

"They won't let you see her. She's not ready yet."

"_Why_?"

"Because! You were stupid and cocky, and wouldn't let her go to the doctor, and now she's worse than you could have imagined!"

"When can I see her?" he asked, defeated.

"I don't know. But there are some things you need to know. They think I'm her sister, and you're her husband,. She gave your last name as hers." His eyes widened and she saw them water.

"She--- she did that?" Joanne nodded her head. He sat down weakly, head in his hands. Mark came up behind her and took her hand.

"You know, he wasn't being stupid and cocky, he's just scared."

"I know. And now I'm sorry I said it. I---" she was cut off by the reception nurse.

"You can go see her now. Room 448." Roger shot up out of his seat and down the hall, Joanne and Mark quickly following. They walked into the room and she gasped.

This was not Mimi. Her small bony frame lay under a snow white blanket, her curly raven hair matted and wet on the pillow. She had a tube sticking out of her wrist, and a tube in her nose. Everything was sickeningly sterile. Mimi was alone in a sea of white. Roger rushed forward, taking her hand and kissing it.

"Mimi, Mimi, what's wrong with you? What's wrong with me? I'm so sorry I did this to you."

"No, its okay. Just promise you won't leave until I go."

"Don't talk like that! You'll be okay! You're only going to be here for a few days, and then you'll be fine. We'll go home." She shook her head sadly.

"Honey, I don't think I'm going to leave here." Tears ran down his cheeks, and he shook his head violently, murmuring, "no, no, no…" Joanne took a step forward, unsure of herself.

"Thank you so much, Joanne. I don't know where I'd be without you." She stood at the foot of the bed, afraid to touch her. "Mark, where's the camera? I would have thought you 'd want to capture this." He shook his head. "Well, I want you to film me when I die."

"Mimi, I---"

"Please, Mark. Do this for me. You don't even have to be here. You can just set it on a table or something. But I don't want to be forgotten. I want a part of me here for you guys always." He nodded, unable to speak.

"Um, I'll go get it then. Just in case," he said, swallowing. Mimi nodded her approval.

"There's not much time."

"No day but today, Mimi." She smiled and closed her eyes.

"I'm going to go with Mark, and we'll get Collins and Maureen, okay?" He didn't answer, but continued to watch Mimi's shallow breaths. Joanne left without a response. She caught up to Mark, and the two lovers walked silently hand in hand to the loft.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Joanne shivered and pulled the thread-bare blanket closer around her shoulders. Stupid Benny! He took the heat right back as quickly as he gave it, after Mimi--- after she was gone. She needed Mark in there with her, to keep themselves remotely warm. Where was he? She didn't have to guess. Babying Roger, that's where. Stupid, selfish Roger. Everything was his fault. She hauled herself out of bed and set up the projector like Mark had taught her how.

Mark had kept Mimi's promise and filmed her death. He, Joanne, Maureen, and Collins had stayed in the room with her as long as the hospital staff would let them. Roger stayed, holding her hand to the end. Joanne switched the projector on, ready to relive it.

"Rog?" Mimi's shuddering breath was becoming more shallow, and labored. He swallowed and sighed.

"Yeah?"

"I should tell you--- I should tell you I love you." He gave a half-hearted laugh.

"Who do you think you are, leaving me alone with my guitar?" A tiny sob escaped from Mimi.

"I'm so sorry." He shook his head.

"No. Mimi, you have to stay with me!" her eyes closed in exhaustion.

"No. Angel needs me. I can see her!"

"Mimi, what are you talking---" Her hand fell limp in his. "Mimi?" he called softly. She didn't respond. "Mimi!" The anguish in his voice echoed the pain of 4 more./ the scene faded out with a picture of Roger, sobs racking his entire being.

Joanne shut off the clattering projector, hugging herself to keep warm, physically and emotionally.

The funeral had been a quiet affair. Roger met Mimi's mother. The eulogy was given by some random priest who echoed Mimi's plea to live, "no day but today," but in no way captured the feeling it was supposed to. Roger sat on the front row, head in his hands, with Collins next to him, a hand on his shoulder. Maureen sat on the end of an aisle, letting out a large sniff every so often. Mark and Joanne sat in the back row, her head leaning on his shoulder, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Mark sat up, rigid, staring at nothing, detaching himself, no doubt. There were many people there, strippers from Kat Scratch, The Man, various members of Life Support, and some Hispanic-looking people with rosaries who made the sign of the cross every few minutes.

Joanne jumped at the sound of a crash.

"Its not _okay_ Mark! She's _dead_! She _died_ and left me _alone_! And you know what? Its _my fault_ she died. And don't try to tell me its not!" There was a pause, where she could hear a low rumbling.

"Shut _up_ Mark! Just shut up? Why don't you mind your own business? Go bang your dyke girlfriend?" This didn't even make Joanne mad. She was used to hearing him shout things like that. It went in a cycle. Mark would try to talk about Mimi, Roger would get mad, and invariably break something, and tell Mark to back off. 2 hours later, Roger would come back to say he was sorry and start the cycle over.

Roger was somewhat bitter toward Mark since he took away anything sharp so he couldn't "pull an April". It was about a week after the funeral when he tried it. Joanne had walked into the bathroom to shower and saw Roger staring at his forearm, a razor clenched tightly in his right hand. He lifted it, and she cried, "Roger, _stop_!" He jumped and saw it was her. He let out a growl of frustration, and threw the blade in the sink, swearing loudly. Mark hurried in, staring open-mouthed at the razor and Roger's pained face. He tightened his lips together and took it away. He rummaged through the various drawers and took anything sharp and threw them onto the kitchen table.

"Mark, what are you doing? _Mark, stop it!_ Don't! Put them back!"

"No! Don't you think Mimi would be disappointed? That you would just _quit _like that?"

"You don't even know what you're talking about! I'm not quitting! Its different! And how do you even know I was going to do that? Your loser girlfriend doesn't know what she's talking about!"

"Roger, I'm not stupid! I know how you are! You were just like this with April, too!"

So begins the beginning of the end.

Mark stumbled into the bedroom, dropping onto the mattress on the floor.

"This is hard."

"Mark, I don't see why you think you have to baby Roger like that. Why you're forced to take all his crap. Why you drop everything you care about for him. Preventing suicide is one thing, Mark, but being someone's mother is an entirely different matter. When is the last time you filmed anything since she died? When is the last time you could sleep in the same room with me for a whole night without having to jump up and help him?"

"You don't understand. This isn't---"

"Isn't what?"

"You know what? I don't have to explain myself to you! I don't have to tell you why I do the things I do! I think you're just trying to find something wrong with me so you can break us up and go back to Maureen!" Joanne was shocked.

"I--- you--- I mean---"

"You know, I was _going _to invite you to meet my _parents_! But now---"

"Well, I'm surprised you would tear yourself away from poor, poor Roger for even long enough to take a piss, let alone however it takes you to go to Scarsdale!"

"Roger _isn't _my life you know! _He's_ not my girlfriend!"

"That's news to me!" she shouted, and walked out of the loft, slamming the door behind her.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Mark sat on the floor of the loft. It no longer had the nice furniture from Joanne, and was filthy once more. The apartment was dingy and gross-looking with clothes strewn all over the floor, garbage, and dirty dishes everywhere again. _This is why I miss Joanne_, he told himself. Which he knew was a lie. But he was trying to forget about how he really felt.

It was 2 weeks since the fight, about a month after Mimi's death. Roger calmed down because, "I guess Mark grew a spine and decided he wasn't going to be Roger's mommy anymore," Joanne told Maureen bitterly. That hurt Marks' pride more than anything else, that she would take Maureen back. _This must be a record. I've been dumped by 2 women for another chick!_

He slammed the back of his head against the wall and sighed. He looked over and saw an old album. He picked it up and let it fall open. Looking down, he saw it was a picture of her the day of their first kiss.

"You screwed up, man." It was Roger.

"No, I didn't."

"Yeah, you did. And I know, I had a hand in it, but you didn't need to accuse her of wanting to get back with Mo. That chick was one of the best girls to happen to you."

"Oh, you be quiet," Mark sullenly replied. He hated those rare events when Roger was right, because it always meant he was very much in the wrong. He turned his head in Roger's direction. "Do you think she'd take me back?" Roger shrugged, but his eyes looked doubtful. Mark stood to get his camera, but for once in his life, he didn't feel like filming. He fell onto the floor, restless and disgusted with himself. He didn't hear the front door open tentatively. He looked up and saw a pair of shoes. A woman's pair of shoes. His eyes traveled up, to make sure it was who he hoped it was. Joanne.

"Mark," she said wistfully, tears filling her eyes. She sat next to him and threw herself into his arms, the place both of them wanted to be most in the world.

X

a/n: man. School bites. And the story is done. I never thought I'd say that! But, _TAKE ME OR LEAVE ME_ IS OVER! I know that I'll make at least a oneshot in the foreseeable future, and it won't be deep or anything, just fun. This has been too much fun, and such a creative outlet. Thank you, God, for Okay! TIME FOR MAD PROPS! Jessica, THANKS. P.S. you need a new screenname. That's your name for everything. PaLM TRee 101, much love for my first ever review! Much love to BwayDiva, PinkElphaba, Eponine Poe, Saoirse Greene, Rock and Sarcasm, L.M. Ward, IDon'tOwnEmotion, eLpHaBaFaBaLaElPhIeFaE, THEfelineOFavenueB, msgalinda, To No Absolutes, Helfan/Zoefan, and the above mentioned, you guys give me a reason to do what I do. Thank you so much. It gives me a warm fuzzy every time I log on to see FF Review Alert. tear! Okay. I'm done acting like I just won an academy award. Extra cookies for all WICKED lovers! muah!

No day but today.


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